Friday, December 30, 2016

Hello 2017

I don't know about you, but I am ready for 2016 to end. It has been one hell of a year for the world at large.  I don't need to rehash it out for you all because most of us lived it. Personally, 2016 was a pretty good year. We did a shit load of traveling: Washington DC, the Jersey Shore, Rocky Gap camping, and other trips. So for me, it was a damn good year.

I don't know what 2017 will bring, because as always the future is uncertain. I suppose that is not very reassuring but every year brings uncertainty and the only thing to do is wake up and just continue moving forward.

For me, 2017 will bring good things. I will finally graduate college. I get to go to the ceremony in May of 2017. My last day of classes is July 4, 2017 (and isn't that so fitting, so beautiful?). We will finally own our home. And who knows? Maybe I will find my place in this world... though I think I am starting to realize my place in this world. I feel like I am on the cusp of something- something big.

But I feel that there is a change in the world. Not just the US but the whole world. 2016 set the stage for something and I don't know what. Something is happening in the world. Something that will affect all of us. It's not paranoia but a weird feeling I can't seem to shake.

Lastly, I am saddened that I was not invited to read a poem at Trump's Inauguration. I know I am not "A" list talent. Fuck I am not even "B" list talent, I am more like "Z" list talent. I have given some thought (why? I don't know sometimes I like daydreaming about random events)

If I were asked to read a poem at his inauguration, I would do it, only if I could read,Pennies of a Nation. So here come the haters. I didn't vote for him. I don't care for his actions or language. However, I think this poem is important. I think it is important to share with the world. Because words matter. This poem matters. And I would read this poem at his inauguration because I want to share the message with him, with congress, with my fellow Americans, with the world.

Don't you think it would be some kind of olive branch if I was asked to read that poem?  I am more of a liberal minded person, I didn't vote for him, but I read a poem in spite of all that. Because I felt my words were important. And this is why I would do it.

Anyway, here's to 2017 and whatever you bring.  There's no turning back now.

Until next time... Happy New Year.

Thursday, December 22, 2016

Ten Miles to Home

The snow storm wasn’t supposed to start until much later. But since when do meteorologists get the weather right?  Neal surveyed the emptying parking lot of last minute shoppers brushing the snow off their cars, as the  twenty-four hour seven days a week  discount department store began to turn off the lights. Happy employees darted from the glass doors. wishing Merry Christmases and throwing snowballs at each other. The coworkers from his store were already pulling away from the parking spots, leaving rectangle blacktop patches in the white snow.

While warming his car, he called his wife, Starling, who no doubt waited for him to call and say he was coming home.

“How bad is it?” he asked and turned on the wiper blades.

“It’s okay, Penn Dot just went by. But it’s still coming down pretty good,” she said.

“Well I’m leaving now.”

“I don’t know what the mountain is like, but the highway is supposed to be passable. Are you sure you want to come home now? Maybe you could wait?”

“Where Starling? Everything is closed.  Anyway I should be fine. I’ll make it.”

“Drive safe, love you,” she said.

“I will.”

He hung up the phone and plugged it into the charger. Slipping his used Subaru into drive he started into the parking lot toward the main road. He just bought the car this past summer, for a bargain. The salesman said everything worked, but it had not snowed heavy since he bought it. This would be the first actual snow storm. Neal thought about his first Subaru, a little hatchback that plowed through snow easily. He smiled a little at the memory and turned left onto the main road, which was snow-covered and tire tracks were already fading into new snow.

Neal made his way on the way and got behind a plow truck.  The road was mostly empty except for plow trucks,  a few SUV’s and a single  car. The snow pummeled the windshield from the pinkish sky. And the lights on the plow truck only a car’s distance away looked like snow covered Christmas lights. He took a deep breath, the car held steady and continued on driving twenty miles an hour.

Primrose Mountain was not a large mountain, it reached about a third of a mile above sea level. The road over the mountain was the main artery that connected the once glorious coal and logging towns to the more developed town in the valley. It was also one of the few dead zones on the east coast, no cell service until he reached Meridian. Thousands of people traveled over Primrose everyday for work. But tonight, there was no one else on the mountain. As soon as Neal left the safety of the plow truck, he was alone on  the black curves of the mountain.  The trees were covered in snow and looked hand drawn as if a child just decided to put trees in their snow picture. The roads were white and untouched. His four ways blinked casting an orange glow over the snow.   Just ten more miles and then he would be in the outskirts of Meridian. Ten more miles and he would almost be home.

The snow swirled and pelted the car. He dropped his speed to fifteen. The car started to slide a bit. He slowly corrected it, but it kept slipping the further he traveled up the mountain. Gripping the steering wheel tighter, he felt the car slip even more. Then from the blinding snow,  a deer stood in the rood. He was already going slow and let his foot off the gas.

“Come on! Go!” He said to himself. But the deer stood there.

As he turned the wheel to go around the animal, he lost his traction in the snow and he began to veer to the right. Neal tried to correct by drifting a full stop, and turning the wheel the other way. He misjudged the road. He had no idea he was already traveling in the center of the road. The car edged over the side mountain. It rolled over. Glass broke and splattered all over him. The air bags deployed as it turned over again. Then it stopped on its roof. His chest hurt. His nose gushed blood.

His body began to numb. His face. His fingers. His brain thudded and pounded. He thought about Starling and when they first met all those years ago in a snow storm. Their wedding day. The birth of their child. The Christmases where they were poor and could not spend more than ten dollars. To their lives got better over the years, enjoying vacations and traveling to new places. She always said she would be the one to go first. How wrong she was. What was she going to do? How will she handle his death? He should have got the larger life insurance policy.  His thoughts of Starling slipped away as he sunk into blackness.

It has been hour since he called. Starling paced the living room, constantly checking the time and the driveway. She would go out and stand in the snow looking toward the road, only to see nothing, no head lights or even the plow truck. There was silence all around her even the owls decided it best to stay snug. He should have called off, but the storm wasn’t supposed to start until after midnight. In fact up till almost four they were calling for midnight. Then at five, the clouds just opened up and spewed snow.  He had the Subaru. He should be here by now. She checked the time, she turned up the heat and went back outside until her feet were numb. Nothing.

Is he okay? What if he wasn’t? When should she call the cops? Would they care? Where was he? What if he died? What then? How would she tell their daughter? How could she possibly go on? She would have to though. What he did he say about his funeral; did he want one? She couldn’t remember.  Maybe their life together wasn’t always the greatest but she would never change it.

Neal started to come back from the darkness. His eyes were blurry, his face and chest still hurt.  Someone had undone his seat belt and tried to pull him from the car. Neal winced at the tugging. It was a man. A large man with a white beard. Of course it was white, it was snowing out. Neal couldn’t keep his eyes open and went to close them again.

“I wouldn’t do that, try to stay with me,” the man said and Neal opened his eyes again.

It must be a firefighter. But where was the flashing lights? The forest around was dark and snowy and the only lights came from the headlights. Some where he heard jingle bells. The fire trucks had to be on the road.  Maybe Penn Dot saw the tire tracks and called the fire department.

The man took him and placed him laying down on the back of something hard, something wooden. Neal blinked and let his eyes adjust to the faint light. The man wore a long red parka and was old, much older than Neal. He was in a sleigh and pulling the sleigh were two horses.

The man wrapped Neal in various blankets, warmth started to flood Neal’s fingers and toes.  The man took of his gloves and gathered snow from beside the sleigh. He made a ball and seemed to stare at it as if he were looking at something. Then without speaking, he tossed the snow ball over to the side and placed his cold hands on Neal’s body. Neal felt his blood start to move and flow. The pain in his nose seemed to vanish and his chest began to move up and down without pain. It was if this man were vacuuming all the pain away.

“Just rest now. I will get you home,” he said and went to the front of the sleigh. He put his gloves back on and slapped the reins against the horse’s backside. The slap resounded through the forest.

They moved swiftly through the woods.  The runners swooshed over the fresh snow. It almost felt like they were gliding across the snow. Or maybe even flying. The snow fell around them but it never seemed to stay inside the sleigh. The air was arctic and brisk but fresh and invigorating at the same time. He didn’t think about the accident or the deer in the road. He thought of nothing.

Two hours after Neal called, a bright light flashed outside and the power went out across the neighborhood. Starling’s heart sunk and she wrapped up in a sweater and rushed outside. Through the whipping snow, some neighbors started lighting candles as she could see the faint glow coming from their dark windows. Then in the distance, she heard jingle bells. Jingle bells? The bells came closer. She turned on her flashlight, which only cut a narrow beam in the snow and saw the glint of the horse’s eyes in the light down the road.

Then  the sleigh stopped in front of their small house. A large man with a white beard and red parka got out of the sleigh. He unwrapped Neal from the blankets. Neal sat up and looked around.

“Starling?!” He said and almost fell out of the sleigh. The man in the red parka caught him and helped him. Neal ran to Starling and squeezed her. Her wet tears touched his face.

“What happened, are you okay?”

“I don’t really know. There was a deer in the middle of the road and I went over the side,” he said in between kisses.

The man in the red parka got back into his sleigh. Starling went over and hugged, “how could I thank you? You saved him.”

“Anyone would have done the same,” he said.

“No they wouldn’t. Not in this weather,” she said. “Please come by tomorrow and have dinner with us.”

“Thank you, but I can’t. You take care of each other,” the man in red parka and said.

Starling went back to Neal as the man in the red parka slapped the reins against the horses and they pulled away. Within moments, the jingle bells fell silent and the only sound was the sound of snowflakes smacking into each other. Once the jingle bells faded, the power came back on and snow-covered Christmas lights flooded the dark street once again.

“Am I dead?” Neal asked still not believing what just happened since he left work.

“If your dead than so am I because this is real.”

Starling and Neal shared another a kiss and looked to the sky as a spot in the sky flashed like a camera.

“That guy looked like...” Starling started.

“Santa Claus.”

Sunday, December 18, 2016

Santa's Shorts by JM Scott FREE until Dec 21 2016

Hello all, Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays.

It is pretty weird as an atheist, I get excited about Christmas. I don't celebrate it as the birth of Jesus but a happy time of year that falls around the winter solstice. Honestly though Christmas is about tree decorating and Christmas carols, sending cards and and hanging out with family and friends. There are great memories associated with Christmas for me. And that is what I celebrate. I like the tradition of Christmas.

Anyway... so as my gift to you, Santa's Shorts is FREE on all markets until Dec 21, 2016. It is a collection of Christmas short stories that focus on the theme of family. There is also some Christmas poetry interspersed in the book as well.

Here is a sample poem from the book:

Broken Christmas Carol

Lights twinkle on boughs splendid
To remind us of a star ascended
To signal a Savior’s humble birth
Bringing hope for peace on earth

Choirs singing carols, the soundtrack of this day.
One can not help not to jovial
troubles sleep if only for a day
visions of Victorian Christmases and
three ghosts reminding us through Scrooge the love of Christmas

Frosted beauty framed by falling snow
Flickering Fireplace light making her face glow
No matter the joy in the air,
Or the overflow of cheer.
The season is cracked and broken,
Empty heart for she's not here.

Thank you for supporting me, where ever you are in the world. I wish you all a wonderful holiday season.  I love you all.

Sunday, November 27, 2016

December 14

for Sandy Hook Elementary 

It’s December
go to school
learn something

today starts normal
then he comes
without warning

fear is fired
from the smoking gun
I want to cry

my teacher dies
and so does
someone else I know

he looks right
at me
his eyes are death

we all cry
we’re all just little kids
this is not a game

a bullet comes...
Santa, can you hear me?
I don’t want toys no more

My Christmas wish
go home
see my mom and dad

I look at death’s
long face
and big crazy eyes

why did you
do this to me
why do all the tears fall

why do you hate me
I don’t know you so
why do I walk to the light?

Tuesday, November 22, 2016

This is OUR America, Not Trump's America

Let the title wash over you, breathe it in and exhale it out.  This is the catch phrase of the day "Trump's America" the apostrophe "s" denotes ownership. Since when did that happen, and where is my payment for the sale? But this is supposed to our America, not your America or my America.

Regardless of who you voted for, this is our America. There 535 people in Washington DC that are supposed to represent US. Make them accountable. If you know how government works then you should be pressuring the congress.  But maybe I am just a dumbass (because I might as well call myself names since that is what a lot of people do, on both sides of the aisle. Name calling- because that will get you far in life, poopy head).

I was not exit polled. So unless a poll is done for every single person that voted, no one can extrapolate anything. Because this election is nothing like other elections. 

I am sick of being pigeon holed. I am Caucasian, college educated, female, rural dwelling (my mail is delivered in a vehicle not in a mail truck and live in the heart of coal country Pennsylvania) and I voted for Hillary Clinton. OH MY GOD, you mean someone is an OUTLIER. But of course how would anyone know that? Just lump everyone together.

Speaking of lumping together. I don't need a safe space.  I am not protesting. I am not a millennial. I am really sort of between Gen X and millennials. I never got a participation trophy. I don't even know what one is.  I believe in human rights and if that makes me a liberal elite then so be it (by the way it is a liberal elite?)

I am one those strange people that listen to and think with my own thoughts. OH MY GOD! WHAT A HORRID PERSON.

I can actually read news and discern for myself the level of biasness in a political piece. I am not loyal to any party and as you know I will say shit about both parties.

According to my local paper, 72% people in my county voted for Trump. That means 28% voted for Clinton, Johnson or Stein.

You what to know what it's like here?  Most people in my county do not  make even close to the median income. Industries include logging and coal mining. Many mines are closed yet there are still some that run. The town I live in is dead. Downtown is a strip of empty buildings, a pizza place, a dentist, a couple of stores, a Chinese place, some offices and beauty salons. There are two grocery stores. In between my town and others, there is nothing but trees and mines. There are no good paying jobs in the area. Most jobs you have to either travel over a mountain or drive to Clearfield and Dubois. You have crappy jobs pared with unaffordable healthcare premiums and deductibles, what are you left with? People around here just see the Washington fat cats  while they have nothing.  So when DT says he's going to bring jobs back, reduce regulations on coal these people listen and they believe him.  Unfortunately, the democrat party did not appeal to these people like Trump did.  What they see is the democrat party taking care of everyone else but them.

Now, this is based on my own observations in my own microcosm in Pennsylvania, which is vastly different from other parts of the state. I am not defending DT or the people who voted for him, but I thought maybe people on a larger scale should understand their point of view.

Am I happy Trump won? No. Would I like to say he was a great president? Yes, I would. I hope that he does renegotiate better trade deals so we all win, but no one can say either way. DT is unpredictable, scary yes but that also means we cannot predict anything about him.  I don't condone his language or many of his plans,  but I like to have faith in the congress and checks and balances.

Now, is the time to write letters to your congress people, Make them represent you and your district. Let your voice be heard. And with the internet, it makes it even easier to contact your congress person. I have already sent letters to raise minimum wage, to keep abortion legal and keep Social Security public. Maybe it doesn't seem much to you;  I am one person and at least I am doing something.

Friday, November 18, 2016

The Wolf's Red Rose by JM Scott is FREE until 11/21/16

Hey all just a quick post to let you know The Wolf's Red Rose is FREE  in all markets until November 21, 2016.

It is a retelling of the classic fairy tale, Little Red Riding Hood, told from the wolf's point of view.

One of the things I always like about this book, is the language. The wolf is a poet. And he writes quite poetically most of the time.

This story was actually inspired by a writing prompt. I started working on it years ago then stopped. A couple of years ago, I was typing some stuff from an old journal and I found this story and fell back in love with it. So I finished it and made it in a to a book.

If you grab a copy, I hope you enjoy it.

Thank you.

Monday, November 7, 2016

VOTE TOMORROW- November 8, 2016

Hello all, Here we are at the end of this election season- can I hear a HALLELUJAH? 

Regardless who wins tomorrow- it will be an election for the history books. Either the first woman president will be elected or a Washington outsider/ business man would be elected.

I cannot stress enough- if you are registered to vote, exercise your right. There are plenty of people in this world who would love to vote for their leaders and do not get that opportunity.

I am not going to tell you whom to vote for; it is your choice.

Remember, the electoral college actually selects the president. Typically, they follow popular vote but this is not always the case. The 2000 election between Al Gore and George W. Bush is evident of that.

But you do vote for members of congress. If you want change don't vote for an incumbent. I would suggest not voting straight ticket, but again that is your choice.

Like it matters what I think... Here are the people I am voting for.

President/Vice President- Hillary Clinton/Tim Kaine. I would vote for Gary Johnson if he logistically had a chance of winning but he does not. I do not believe Hillary is the lesser of two evils and I think she would make a fine president.  I am hoping for bi-partisanship between the Democrats and Republicans.

PA Senator- Katie McGinty. This vote has nothing to do with her being a woman or a Democrat but the very fact Pat Toomey did not want to stand up and say give Merrick  Garland a hearing. I feel as if he doesn't do anything in congress.

PA 5th District- Glenn Thompson. Because my husband personally knows him and says he is a good guy.

State Elections-

Auditor general- Roy Minet
Attorney General- Josh Shapiro
Treasurer- James Babb
State Senator District 35- Wayne Langerholc
PA House District 73- Tommy Sankey. Sankey is a Republican, although I feel he is more centrist and I feel like he is doing good job in the state house.

It seems like Pennsylvania matters tomorrow. And there are all these rumors about election watchers and other mayhem. You know what I think will happen tomorrow...

I will go to my polling place a little after 7 am. I will wait in a small line. I will give the older woman my name and then I will sign my name. I will notice that my brother-in-law has not been in yet. I will wait for a machine. I think there are three or four of them. The election attendant will get me set up and I will vote. More than likely,  I will spend about ten to fifteen minutes  in the polling place. There will be no crazy people around. It will be like every other time I vote.

So folks- get out and vote. Until next time...

Sunday, October 30, 2016

Trick or Poem by JM Scott

Hey all, I am proud to announce my 16th Kindle book, Trick or Poem.

There are 31 Halloween or horror themed poems.  And...

It is free until October 31, 2016.

Here is a sample poem:

Piece  Love and Dismemberment

forbidden knowledge 
of tortured souls
adults only human sacrifice 
classic horror-
the act of cutting tearing pulling 
it was a night to dismember 

Salem and the Hawthorn Hotel
splattering the steamy 
solar eclipse vacation policy
with scary stories, the severed arm 
and the bag of bones 

the best kind of people
dead with Pac-Man eyes
mortician chainsaw and hatchet
fragmented transformation 

a man found dead 
among haunted house props
the gory legend folds itself
into a paper football 

I stir the stars
say the words
and my Halloween boyfriend
tears the veil between our worlds
and then my jugular. 

Many words gathered from Bing search pages 1-10 using the term “Halloween Dismemberment.”

Sunday, October 9, 2016

Things in Fall

I know it's been awhile since I written, I lost time somewhere. A whole month just vanished, at least that is what it feels like. I have a shit load of things to say, so I am just going to with the abridged version.

Thought 1

One of the biggest draws about Donald Trump is that he speaks what is on his mind. And while that is his first amendment right, my question is if I said exactly  what was on my mind, especially on Facebook, how many friends would I have left? I am thinking five. I suppose since I am not famous like DT, then I don't get the same pass as he does. I really think we should change that. I think I should say whatever I want, and everyone will come to my defense.

Thought 2

I know it's late, but DT claimed almost a billion dollar loss for the 1995 tax year and it had the internet in an uproar. Since it is apparent, his accountant broke no laws. Then the real problem is with the tax code. The folks that change the tax code is congress. So who do you think you should be bitching to?

Thought 3

Paul Ryan, current speaker of the house, has a plan to really to bring trickle down economics to fruition  if DT becomes president. Yes, I want to live in a world where profits are more extreme and the workers get nothing better (not). Look at Wal-Mart. Profit every year and they just recently decided to give more to the workers. So corporate taxes are one of the highest among developed nations but does cutting taxes really mean that it will trickle down? Wouldn't that depend on the folks in charge, and golly cutting corporate taxes really only means a bigger bonus for the CEO. So please, I am asking for my own knowledge, if anyone can provide an example of how trickle down worked, please share it with me. I think if the people who buy shit  had more spending power, then profits will be inevitable. There is a lot more non rich people than rich people.

Thought 4

My kid changed my name and now I have to wait another couple of months before I can change it back. But no worries, I am still JM Scott.

Thought 5

Dear members of all media, can we have one day without talk about Hillary Clinton or Donald Trump. No talk about the vice presidents either. Is it possible to turn off the bull shit this election has become?  I am tired of constant deflection because it seems like the only thing anyone is doing. For example, "you think my candidate sucks, well your candidate does or did this?" Let's talk issues, does anyone still know what those are?

Thought 6

I'm done with this year's election. I just want it over.

Thought 7

You got election blues?  Everyone should follow several animal pages on Facebook because at least animals are cute and interesting. I love Pandas and I spend a lot of time looking at Panda videos.

Thought 8

I have nine poems left to write for my upcoming Halloween/ horror themed poetry collection Trick or Poem. I am shooting for a release date of October 24, 2016.

And that is about it. I am sure there was more but I can't think of anything else. Take care. Until next time...

Monday, September 5, 2016

Zero November- A Creepypasta Zero Story

Novie slipped in through the kitchen door. Her mother sat at the table on the phone and computer.  As she tried to move past her unseen, her mother hung up the phone.

“What are you doing here, Novie? I thought you had practice until four.”

“I didn’t feel like going.”

“Are you sick?”

“No, I just didn’t feel like going. Maybe, I don’t want to be a cheerleader anymore,” Novie said and ran up to her room. She slammed the door and turned on her computer.

“I can’t believe your mom actually let you quit,” Jersey, Novie’s best friend said, as she lay on her stomach on the thick, deep- purple comforter on Novie’s bed.

“Not really. She tried to get me back on the squad even called  coach Kim, but no deal. Kim said if I were a happier and a more devoted cheerleader she might consider it. Now, mom is on this kick of finding something else for me to do.”


“How the hell should I know? I guess she wants her alone time whoring around,” Novie said and changed the radio.

“You know,  Halloween is like three weeks away. What do you want to go as? I was thinking we could be villains from Once Upon a Time. I want to be Regina.  You could be Zelena. Or I could be Zelena and you could  be Regina.”

“We always dress up in some cheesy, matching Halloween costumes,” Novie said.

Jersey frowned, “okay Nov, then what do you want to dress up as?”


“The Creepypasta Zero?”


“Why? Isn’t she a little, I don’t know, creepy?”

“That’s the point isn’t it? It is Halloween.” Novie got off the bed and went to the closet and pulled out the outfit she had been assembling for the last week. “I pretty much got everything I need except the hair dye, the colored contacts and the sledgehammer.”

“That’s cool. I guess;  I could go as a Creepypasta character as well.”

“Why don’t you dress up who want to be? I think you would be an awesome Evil Queen. You love wearing fancy dresses.”

“I know, but it’s like our best friend thing.”

“Just because we are dressing differently, doesn’t mean we are not still best friends.”

Two weeks before Halloween, Novie found her mom downstairs.

“Mom, can you order these things for my Halloween costume?” Novie gave her the list.

“White hair dye, white contact lenses, a sledgehammer? We don’t have the money for this. If you need this stuff so bad, why not ask your father for the money?”

“How do we not have the money? He pays child support and alimony,” Novie snapped.

“First of that money goes to the bills and the food.”

“And it is supposed to pay for my clothes as well.”

“Yeah clothes you wear to school, not expensive Halloween costume crap. If you want this shit, ask your father for the money.”

“Fine,” Novie said and marched off.

Her dad answered on the first ring, “November, what is it? I’m a little busy.”

“Dad, this won’t take long. I need some money to buy things for my Halloween costume and mom said we don’t have the money and she told me to ask you.”

She heard him count to ten quietly on the other end. He took a breath in and said, “fine call Tracy and tell her what you need. Tell her I said to get what you needed.” Then he hung up.

At least she was making progress for her costume. She could tell her dad was pissed, and she also knew he would be calling her mom later on to bitch her out. Novie didn’t blame him. Why is that her mother got  pretty nails and fancy clothes and Novie was left shopping the bargain bin?

Tracy, her stepmother, was eager and pleased to help Novie out.

“One of my friends is a hairdresser. I can take you over tomorrow and she will color your hair white. Since your hair is so dark anyway, it might be the best to have a professional do it.”


“Yeah, maybe if you want,  we can spend some time together.  Do you need anything else for your costume?”

“No, I have the outfit already.  I had to buy the tights but the rest I had in my closet.”

“How about I pick you from school?” Tracy asked.


When she arrived home from spending all afternoon with Tracy, her mother was pissed.

“What the fuck is this? Why did you ignore my calls? Where the hell was you?”

“I was with Tracy.  She paid for my hair. I think it looks nice. Instead of all white, the hairdresser said I should do a black and white ombre.”

“No, it looks like shit. It’s funny how she has all this money to waste on you but I can’t get any more from that lying sack of shit. You know he called me this morning. Fucking prick.”

“That lying sack of shit is my dad!” Novie screamed. “And Tracy is nice and she wanted to hang out with me. She bought the rest of my Halloween costume and we ate at Applebee’s and went shopping. We had fun.”

“I would say, go live with your father. But he doesn’t want you either.”

“Fuck you, mom!”

Novie’s mom, slapped her across the face. Novie started to cry, she ran up to her room.

Novie came home from school and there was a large package on the doorstep. She picked it up and smiled. It had to be the sledgehammer. She looked at the box closer and something was strange about it.  Her name was written on the box in a black marker, but not her address. There was no shipping label or a return address. It was like it just appeared out of nowhere.  A chill raced down her spine as the October wind picked up and swirled leaves around her.

She brought the box to her room and opened it. Inside was a sledgehammer, but not the sledgehammer she picked out from eBay. This had a painted white wooden handle with strange rune-like markings on the shaft.  The top was black and made from what appeared to rubber. Etched in the rubber and painted in white was the number zero with a line through it, a computer zero.  Novie took it out of the box.

As she held it in her hands, a warm feeling radiated from the sledge hammer through her hands, up through her arms, to her heart. This was hers. It was meant for her. It was like that feeling she got when chose out her puppy from the shelter before he parents divorced. He was a skinny, skittery little black dog with a big brown spot by his tail. She had a connection with him and had to have him. Of course, when her parents divorced  less than a year ago, Tartan had to go back to the pound because her mother couldn’t afford to take care of him. She had a connection with the sledgehammer. This was meant to be. Kismet.

She woke on Halloween morning, kissed the sledgehammer that she had been sleeping with since she got it. Lucky for her, Jersey has not wanted to come over in awhile. Otherwise she would think it was weird that Novie had received a sledgehammer and that she had been sharing a bed with it, even cuddling it like was her childhood lovey. And really Novie, didn’t want Jersey coming over anymore, and she never saw her except for school. She told her that her mom grounded her, but the truth was she had to get home from school and be with the sledgehammer. She would spend all her time laying  in bed with it, stroking it, talking to it, doing things with it.

Novie popped the white contact lenses in. She got them a couple of days earlier and started wearing them full time. The whispers started when she had her dyed, but it got worse with the contacts. Novie didn’t care  about those posers anymore. She couldn’t believe she used to want to be friends with them and maintain her status. All that mattered now was the sledgehammer.

She  slipped on the black and white tights and the black jean cut off shorts. She put on a black bra and her black fishnet shirt and a black tank top. Separating her hair in the center, she put it up in pig tails. Lastly, she slipped on the finger-less gloves. She picked up the sledgehammer and swung it around.

“Oh my god, this would make a killer video.”

Novie grabbed her phone and started recording. She claimed to be Zero, swung at the full-length mirror and shattered it.

“Did I hurt you? I’m sorry. I love you.  I’m so sorry,” Novie said and cradled the sledgehammer. She kissed it once again. Then turned off her phone.

“So I can’t take you to school, but we will be going out tonight. There is a poser party at Riley Mondoon’s house. And we are going to be  awesome,” Novie said to the sledgehammer, kissed it once again and left.

  Novie carried the sledgehammer over her right shoulder with her hand firmly on the shaft.
Never had she felt more alive, more purposeful. Tonight was going to be her night; she knew it. Her mother was standing in a slinky nurse’s costume on the phone, like always.

“Well you were supposed to be here twenty minutes ago, we are going to be late for the party,” her mother said to her boyfriend of the week.

Novie felt like she was drifting away, a voyeur on her own life.  She let the sledgehammer fall from her should so that the center of the shaft was in her hand.  Grabbing it with her other hand, Novie swung it until connected with her mother’s head. The skull snapped and cracked and blood shot out from the wound. Her mother fell to the floor, twitching. She was still alive, but couldn’t speak to whoever was on the phone.

She heard his voice.  He yelled for her mother. Her mother groaned and gurgled.

“Happy Halloween, Mom.”

It was eight and it just started getting dark out. Novie wandered the streets on her way to the party. She had blood on her face and hair and on the tool. Little kids in their cowboy and princess costumes screamed when they saw her and ran to their mommies. At Riley’s house, she slipped into the shadows on the side of the house. She saw Jersey and some other girls from the squad all dressed like villains from Once Upon a Time. Funny how that was their best friend thing. Perhaps if, Jersey was a bit more understanding she would have continued to be her friend instead of ditching her.

“Jersey,” Novie yelled from the shadows.

“Novie, is that you? I didn’t think you were coming.”

“Can you come here?”

Jersey appeared, “I’ve missed you, Nov. What’s been going on with you?”

“Sure you’ve missed me, that’s why you stopped coming over. You were jealous because I had this,” Novie said and showed her the sledgehammer.

“Well, it’s really cool. But why I would be jealous of a stupid sledgehammer?  It’s just a cool prop. I think this costume fits you.  You look awesome.”

“It’s not a prop;  it’s real. I’m real.”

“Novie?” Jersey asked.

Novie held the sledgehammer in her hands. She smiled.

“What’s wrong with you?”

Novie swung it at Jersey’s face. Her nose and teeth broke. Jersey fell against the wall and almost to the ground.   More blood sprayed over Novie.  Jersey tried to scream but Novie swung the sledgehammer again hitting her once more in the face, but this time her face was smashed against the brick wall. Jersey collapsed to the ground and her face looked like  it melted behind a mask.

Not knowing what to do next and feeling damn good and alive, Novie went to the backyard.  Halloween lights were  strung up in the patio. Hip-hop wafted through the open sliding glass door. Guys laughed and girls squealed. There were a couple of guys sitting on the patio, smoking a bong. She sauntered closer to them, with her trusty sidekick slung on her shoulder.

“Damn, Novie. You are hot,” Shane said. “Why don’t you come over here and sit on big papa’s lap?”

Shane, the player, he had a go around with everyone else but not her. She was never interested him and his sleazy ways. She used to prefer guys who weren’t jocks, smart guys,  not nerds, but the smart, brooding, hotties. Tonight,  playing with Shane would be fun.

“Hey Shane, what are you supposed to be?”

“A pirate and I want some booty! And yours looks like a fine treasure.”

The others laughed. Novie laughed and came closer until she was standing in front of him. “So is this what you want?” she asked.

“You going to give it up, or am I going to take it?” He asked.

The two other guys chortled.

“You know you are going to have to take it from her,” one said.

“Look at how she wants you,” the other said and inhaled from the bong.

“Oh, I was thinking about doing the taking,” Novie said slyly.

The guys whooped. Shane sat back in the chair, “I’m all yours, baby.”

In one fluid motion, she held the sledgehammer in her hands. It was an extension of her; she was one with it.  She whipped the sledgehammer and whacked Shane’s head like a baseball. Blood squirted from the side of his face.

“And I think that is a home run, fellas. Isn’t that what he wanted?”

One of the guys screamed and ran inside. The other grabbed his phone and called 9-1-1. With the commotion, people from party came to the door. The guy inside was screaming. Novie leaped over to the guy on the phone and struck him. His phone went sailing into the grass and more blood rained on her. She loved the way it felt when hit her face and then dripped down. It was like art. Everyone had their phones out. They had to be recording. She was famous. She was Zero.

“November, stop!” Riley yelled.

The crowd parted. He had a shotgun in his hand. He cocked it.

She went for him and he fired into her eye and out the back of her head taking brain bits with it. She wavered and dropped the sledgehammer and then fell to the ground.

Eleven Months Later

“Sargent, we have a problem?” Officer Madeston said on the phone from the evidence room in Meridan Police Department.

“What’s that?”

“That sledgehammer, which was used to kill all those people last Halloween, is gone.”

“What the hell do you mean gone?”

“It was here last week, when I did my weekly  inventory and now it is not. I looked at the video and no one left with it. No one came in here but me.”

“For Crissakes, how the hell does a sledgehammer just walk out of a secured police station?”

Zero-Creepypasta,  written by ZombiePunkRat inspired this story.

Thursday, August 18, 2016

Congealed Sticks of Coolness

light bulb luminescence
on the shadow stage,
I rape fantasies.
assembly line witches
take to the sky,
silver moonlight decays
into another long
goodbye. I am
deliberate surges
of power, hostage
to twisted imaginations
hanging around unseen faith.
the shattered supreme
battery choir covets
diesel in the clouds,
I explode- capturing
splintered sunsets.

It's been awhile since I posted a poem. One day I will get around to collecting some poems on my hard drive ( the good ones not the sucky ones) and make a poetry collection. Speaking of poetry collections, I only fourteen more poems to write for Trick or Poem. I will be taking my last poetry workshop in school in the upcoming term.

Sad to see summer go.

Till next time

Saturday, August 13, 2016

Help Me Win!

Hey all, So I am one of those people that think there are signs in this world and sometimes act on them rather impulsively. Well, this is one of those times. For the last couple of days, I have been polishing Gone Before Dawn, the novel I wrote in 2014. While on Facebook one day, I came across an ad to enter the novel in the contest through Yeah, I know they really don't have a good reputation right now, but honestly I do not have much to lose. Back to contest, I submit my novel and then if I am one of the winners, they will try and get my book published at a major publisher, like an agent. If there are no takers, then they will publish it through Kindle and market it. Their premise is using math and picking out a bestseller based on the reader. From what I read they based off of the phenomenal success of Fifty Shades ( I won't even get into that right now).

This is where I need you. If you think I have what it takes.Then please join the site and reserve a copy of my novel. Here is the link Gone Before Dawn Please help me. The only thing, I hate about this is I know like five people that will help me and now I have to go around and begging for help. I am not even a good beggar. The entire novel is posted and I sincerely hope you enjoy it.

Thanks in advance.

Thursday, August 11, 2016

Dear NRA

Thanks for calling today! I don't know why I answered the phone, but I must have thought that is was important. I am not sure why I listened to about half of the recorded message from the VP, I suppose I was curious.  And the gist of the phone call was to try and  solicit money from me  because with Hillary Clinton lurking around the White House, WE ARE IN SERIOUS DANGER OF LOSING OUR SECOND AMENDMENT RIGHT. HILLARY CLINTON AND THOSE DEMOCRATS ARE TAKING OUR GUNS!!!

Unfortunately, I do not and never have felt that my second amendment right was at risk. I can't believe so many people believe all  Democrats and those associated with them are evil, gun hating people that want to melt all weapons into pony figurines. I don't hate guns.   I'm sorry NRA, I don't respond to your brand of begging for money, what you are pushing is irrational fear. Maybe that works for some people, but not for me.

I believe in the second amendment, as I do with all the amendments. But here's the problem and it's not with Tom, Dick, or Jane's right to own a firearm. Honestly, I really don't give a shit if a law abiding person owns a gun or fifty. What I have a problem with is the people who have a PFA and for some reason get a gun and kill someone.  I have a problem with people who have serious mental issues getting a firearm. I have a problem with people who illegally obtain handguns to kill other people. What I have problem is why in the last twenty years people decide that using a gun is their weapon of choice to kill others for no good reason.

You don't know this, but I am looking for answers for those questions. How are guns getting on the streets and how we do fix the problem? Perhaps if you called me on the phone and told me you wanted to spend my donation on finding solutions to this very real problem, I might donate. If you called me on the phone and told me that the NRA knows there is a gun problem with criminals  and you have real ideas that both sides of the aisle way can agree on then perhaps I would share my money with this cause,

The NRA has a lot of clout, there's no denying it. Instead of screaming that the we are going to lose our guns, which is untrue, perhaps we, me, you, and everyone,  should figure out solutions. Maybe that is how the money should be spent. And NRA, you just  might have a lot more members because you are using your incredible force to benefit all and not just a few.

And before go, since I truly believe in the first amendment right, please feel free to call me names because that is what it seems like people, who do not agree with another person (both Republicans, Democrats and others),  do online. Please call me whatever helps you sleep better at night, or make you feel better about yourself. Chances are,  there is probably at least one grammar mistake call me stupid and uneducated, if you wish.

Monday, July 25, 2016

Watch the Parties Fall Apart

Just after a week of Donald Trump officially received the Republican nod for president, the Democrats go and have a shit storm of a convention in Philadelphia. The latest is the chair of the DNC sent emails trying to undermine Sanders' campaign, with thoughts of trying to say he he was atheist. Stop right there....

1. Why the fuck does it matter if the person running for president is atheist? Does it make you bad person? All of a sudden you have no morals because you don't believe in god. Ever hear of a thing called separation of church and state? You know what there should BE MORE of that. Unlike the Republicans who wants to push a fake Christian agenda onto a people where there is supposed to FREEDOM of religion as granted by the FIRST AMENDMENT.

2. To try and undermine Sanders' campaign just shows that the Democrats have little faith in Hillary Clinton in winning the nomination. I don't know why that is, but that is pretty pathetic.

3. Clinton Campaign tries to pin the email leak on Russia. Hey, I thought it was 2016, didn't the cold war end? When I first read that, I thought I went back in time. Maybe Putin does care who is President and maybe he would prefer one over the other but I highly doubt the Russian Kremlin hacked into the DNC email system to benefit the Donald. I think Putin is smarter than that  and I am sure if he really wanted Donald in, he would do it more covertly.

4. There is a lot of talk about rigged campaigns. I cannot speak for other states. I voted in the primaries in PENNSYLVANIA. I went to my polling place, there were no lines. They found my name easily as they have for the last several elections. I have been registered to vote since I was 18 (18 years ago). I registered as republican at 18. Changed to an independent later on. In 2007, I switched my party affiliation to democrat to vote in the primaries and never switched it back. I don't normally vote in primaries, but I vote in all the elections in November.  Anyway Clinton won Pennsylvania in 2016 and I didn't see anything about voter fraud and other problems. But then again maybe Sanders never really cared about Pennsylvania. I know we are not as big as California or New York but we quite a few delegates up for grabs. And if the DNC were fucking with polling places, I guess they didn't care about Pennsylvania anyway.  I also never vote straight ticket. 

Of course not be outdone or more mature than the Republicans,  half the democrats hate Hillary Clinton. Hate her so much  that there are protests and booing and sorts of adult things going on. Oh yeah the Democrat party is fractured big time. And let's not forget some Bernie supporters are going green. That is really effective since Jill Stein is not on every state's ballot. Gary Johnson is but since he doesn't offer free college, I guess he is nothing but a reasonable individual with good thoughts.

So let's all cry that Bernie Sanders is not the nominee and huff and puff and make a big ole fuss. And here are your options in November:

1. Stay the fuck home.

2. Write Bernie Sanders in

3. Vote for Jill Stein or I guess write her in since she is not on all the state's ballots

4. Vote for Gary Johnson, libertarian which is a party I am thinking of joining. I am having a hard time accepting the platform the Republicans are standing behind. Democrats have more I agree with. The Libertarian has the most I agree with except for the economic plans, which I tend to fall with democrats on that one. Okay, I may not be old enough to really know, but here's my thought. I am 36. Reagan was elected in November of 1980 with his thoughts of trickle down. It is now 2016 and the only thing I see is more money at the top and nothing at the bottom. In fact, I would have to win a large Powerball to even make it to the top. Because even if I were to become a doctor I still would only be in the middle. Hard work doesn't get you where you used to.

5. Vote for Donald Trump

6. Vote for Hillary

7. Vote for congress and write your favorite cartoon character for president. I cannot stress this enough. At least vote for the members of congress. And if you don't know why, then maybe you should go to school with the immigrants who have to learn all about this country so they can be a citizen.

Sunday, July 24, 2016

Turning 36

Last week (July 15), I turned 36. It is sort of a weird age. I don't feel any different than I did maybe six years ago, except I creak a hell of a lot more than I used to.  I don't feel old or antique. And lately, it has sort of dawned on me that parents are 60 and turning 59. It's not that I didn't know that before, it just seems like my time with them is running out. I wonder what  kind of things they thought about when they were my age. It's not just that, but my kid turned 12 in June. All of this just puts me in a weird place, there are thoughts I want to think of but I can't find the words. Most of the time, I feel like I am still 25, and  everyone else around me is getting older. I don't have gray hair, but I am fine with the grays. And maybe that's why I don't feel 36. Although I secretly hope that when I am old, I have white hair like my grandmother. It's sort of like blonde but  not.

I thought I would be a lot further along in my writing career than I am now. I go in these waves of working hard and sending away stuff. But of course, I also get  rejections up the ass. All rejections all the time. So maybe I am just good enough to be a writer. I am having a hard time writing lately. I had all these plans for 2016, which were flushed down the toilet. I have ideas, yet no ambition. Sometimes, I tell myself I just need a nibble, of someone in the world telling me I'm okay. But, then I suppose that is addicting,  the constant need of "atta boy." I don't give myself a pat on the back because I don't deserve them; I am just not good at writing. If that is the case, what then? All my life I thought of myself as a writer. Here I am about halfway through my life and I feel like I am just floating along like a dry hot wind from the west.

In my wind storm of thoughts and story ideas, I am lost and I don't know what to do. I always think like a writer and read like a writer and I don't know what to do with myself if I weren't a writer. I try not think like that. It creeps up all the time though. It is frustration and confusion and anger. Why can't I just be good enough, at least just once. I don't see it in myself. I can't stop comparing myself to any other writer and wonder what the hell is wrong with my work.

I suppose it is hard to explain.  I sit around wondering how other people's, normal, non writers brains work and maybe my brain is not right. Because I would like to feel normal once and maybe I can see something I didn't before.

Tuesday, June 14, 2016

Lying Angels

My mother named me Angelina-Jean, but some of you know me as AJ Soloman.  She named me Angelina because of her guardian angel and Jean because of her mother. A guardian angel saved her life when she fell through the ice at sixteen.

Mom would consult Calgary, the angel,  for all life decisions. She had a clear pointed crystal that hung on a delicate silver chain, and she would ask Calgary yes or no questions. For a  yes answer, the pendulum would swing in a circle. For a no answer it would swing back and forth. Mom would  ask should I try for that promotion at work? The pendulum swung back and forth. And all though she frowned at the answer, she believed it was for the best. Every time Mom asked,  her angel kept saying no. She worked twenty years at the same hotel as a housekeeper and believed until the moment she took her last breath  that God had a plan and guardian angels never lied and always pointed you in the right direction.

Two things happened when I was thirteen. I won the Philadelphia city-wide fiction contest for my age group and my mother presented me with my own pendant to consult  my own guardian angel. Teachers and other adults had said I was soo talented and I should be a writer.  I asked  my guardian angel, Catrella, every day will I be a successful writer. Sometimes I asked  should I be a writer? The pendulum always swung in a large circle.

A liberal arts degree and one craptastic job after another, I am now forty years old and my writing career is not existent. It’s rejection after rejection and a mountain of  bad reviews. I just couldn’t believe that this could be happening. And Catrella, my supposed guardian angel,  had lied to me all these years.

I went to a  real psychic she laughed at me and said I had no angel.   I am tired of being a pawn in “God’s” plan. There is no God and no guardian angel. All my life wasted away.

There is a man I know, a close friend of twenty years, he asked me time and time again to marry him.  He is rich and I  do cherish the time we spend together, I just don’t love him like that. In fact,  the idea of fucking him on our wedding night makes me nauseous.  I asked the crystal about him and it said no to him and yes for writing. Now, I am making my own choices.

I deleted my hard drive, millions of words gone. I put down the pen. Burned all the notebooks and rejections letters. How bad could it be? Being with him has got to be better than chasing a fantasy.

Thursday, June 9, 2016

Primaries, Bernie Sanders and Beyond

I haven't talked much about politics lately. The entire internet is full of extremely biased left and right views  and those that walk in the middle do seem to be  invisible. I am glad primary season is for the most part over ( I know folks in DC still have to vote). Let's talk about primaries. You know the big parties and there are dozens of little parties. And if 2016 taught us anything it is this.... we definitely need to start changing how primaries are run. One thing is for certain the superdelegates and unbound delegates of the Democratic and Republican parties need to disappear.

If you really think about it, we don't vote for President, we don't even get to choose who we want for president. It's all delegates or the electoral college. We need to change that. You want to keep the delegates, so be it but get rid of those superdelegates.

And why does primary season last for six months but election day last one day? Caucuses are outdated and if anything excludes would be voters because of other commitments. Who makes up these rules? We need to talk about change, real change.

We should have a primary day or even a primary month, where all states and territories vote in an OPEN primary. That's right I said "open." It's time we start voting for the person and not the party. Sorry Iowa and New Hampshire, you should not set the stage for primary season.

Don't you think this election year would be a lot different if people could choose the candidate they wanted instead of choosing the default candidate because that person was the only one left on the ballot?

We need to demand to hear from a party that is not Republican or Democrat. Gary Johnson is the Libertarian candidate. He has some excellent beliefs and ideals, he will get to debate if he receives 15%  support. What the hell kind of rule is that? We should be presented ideas with the same ones we heard about for the last several decades.

Before moving on, I just want to say I am not against Bernie Sanders. And if you feel as though you need to call me names, or say I am stupid, uneducated, or whatever you feel then please do so. I will not inhibit first amendment rights. I believe in freedom of speech.

I had no idea who Bernie Sanders was before 2015. Who knew he spent all those years in congress?  I like some of Sanders plans. I have been a huge supporter for universal health care forever.

Our healthcare system is beyond repair. And it is a vicious cycle of greed. United Health cries because they are not posting over  400 billion dollars of profit. Why is healthcare so expensive? Is it drugs? Malpractice insurance? The desire to have the latest Mercedes?

Why is it I can get full coverage car insurance for less money per month than health insurance? Why would that same car insurance pay 20,000, 30,000 or more per claim? Why can I get dental and eye insurance for less than twenty bucks a month for a family but health insurance is not affordable- even before the ACA.  Why is life insurance so freaking cheap when you get a 100,000 policy which is probably the cost of several hospitalizations?

Universal healthcare is something Franklin D Roosevelt wanted as well. And I believe it will save money. I am working on a plan that I would like to introduce to my representatives in January that I think will help solve some problems.

Sanders also wants to raise the minimum wage and provide for maternity leave, close tax loop holes and lift the ceiling for FICO taxes, which will hopefully flood the Social Security confers.

These are good things, but something about him bothers me. Maybe it's not him, but maybe it's  the internet. He really seems to hate the wealthy. And sometimes the way he talks, he wants revolution. Like Russian Revolution, not American revolution. I agree- Mr Sanders things need to change.

I sit around and wonder- why did he run now? How come I never heard of him before now? A good strategy would have been starting his revolution years ago.   (I didn't know who Mitch McConnell was until he said they will not hold hearings for a new Supreme Court Justice. I am guessing he was not  in the news a lot so he had to do something).

Why is it Sanders went bonkers for debate prior to the New York primary but could care less about Pennsylvania, who had a lot of delegates to offer up. Instead he visits main campus Penn State.

From what I see, he loves the feeling of young people loving him. He talks about fervently about income equality and free college and gets the young people riled up and looking for a fight, to "fight the man" I guess.  He collects the disenfranchised and angry voters, much like Donald Trump. Does he tell you who to vote for in congress?

I am not saying education is not important because it is extremely important. But free college? I understand I will pay more taxes, unless you make less than 20K a year. How am I supposed to pay my student loans if I don't have much take home pay? At least some of you will get "free college" So there's that.

We need to figure out why college is expensive. There is nothing wrong with having some debt because of college. There is something wrong with having $30,000 worth of debt.  Even in the game of Life, you take a loan for a college. Just so you know, I have $43,000 student loan debt for about 5 years of education. I have student loan debt  from 15 years ago. On the bright side, they are consolidated and deferred right now. I can only imagine what I will owe after next year.

Bernie Sanders is taking his fight to the convention in Philly. And I say- more power to you.

What if he gets the nomination? And he becomes president? Things take time. Not all democrats agree with his ideas. What if he never gets anything done? Would it still be a conspiracy?

Remember, congress writes the bills, the president signs them or vetoes them. I don't think Bernie Sanders cares about anyone else in the democratic party and it doesn't really seem to matter who his band of disenfranchised, angry voters vote for  as long it's for him.

One thing all of us, regardless of party lines should make as a goal for 2017 is to get the national debt paid off. Of course, we can't come up with 19 trillion dollars in one year. But things have to be set in motion. Is it rumor or is it truth that the military has equipment that is not being used but they lack good equipment? We need to stop wasting money. We do need to close loopholes and impose taxes on capital gains. And before implementing new programs- we need to reign in this debt. This is astronomical. Doesn't the US government get a ton of tax money in, where does it go?

This has to be a priority because it will make us stronger and safer. We need to tell our congresspeople that they need to manage money smarter and better and pay down the debt.

So remember to vote in November even if Bernie is not the nominee because congress is important. And we, the voters,  have to make our voices heard in congress, they work for us, they represent us, Make sure they know that.

Tuesday, June 7, 2016

Hurricane Star

Experimental, visual poetry using emojis (or pictographs) and punctuation. Millennials rejoice!  This was both fun and challenging at the same time. I don't know if other poets wrote an emoji only poem, but I wanted to try it out.  I used Emoji Viewer and Bloom Diary apps (Windows 10) to make it. After creating the poem, I took a sreenshot and cropped it. Enjoy....

Friday, June 3, 2016

Humor Me While I Go Off to Rantville

The last three weeks, I ran a sale for my Etsy store and in a word- fail. Okay, I had one sale. So I suppose it was not a complete fail. I have ran sales before with no return, I think what made this one worse was I spent actual money on advertising on Facebook and on Etsy. I ran two different ad types on Facebook and had 13 clicks to my store but no purchases.

It is discouraging. I don't even know how to make my business better. Maybe my jewelry sucks. But I don't think so since I do very positive reviews on my sales (more than I do for my books). I have had my store for five years and had 40 sales, an average of 8 sales per year. I want to do better. I don't understand why I don't do better.

I am in competition with the world.

I don't pay myself a wage, not even minimum wage. I tried pricing my items the right way. I decided on minimum wage. And I kept notes of how long something would take me to make then I added approximate costs of materials. I did those with about 15 items and nothing sold. A year later, I wound dropping all the prices on those items. Make sure you know, I don't pay myself a wage.

My prices are reasonable. My items are unique. I value customer service and it has already screwed me over twice, but I still push the customer service. I charge one price for shipping and you can buy as much as you want and pay one price (notice that will eventually cut into my money). I don't make a profit off my store...

We are a country that does not make things, we are a country that buys things- things that are cheap and from China. And yet, at the same time, there are those who are screaming about the obscene profits corporations make while they buy their junk at Wal-Mart or some department store. Just because they are expensive doesn't mean it's worth anything more. And here I am selling quality for just as inexpensive because I got to keep my prices low to sell.

A couple of years ago, I went to Gabriel Brothers because they were having a sidewalk sale. You could get  a bag of jewelry for $5. This was perfect for me because I am upcycler/recycler in addition to making new things. There was this one necklace that was sold at Express and it was broken. MSRP was $40 and it was made in China. I took the rhinestones and made a new necklace and I have mine priced for half as much and I know it will last for a lot longer as well.

I have considered pushing the American made angle. But what good what would that do? No one wants American made items. How I see the world is everyone wants to be like everyone else and pay nothing for it all while protesting the way the world is.

Just so you know I am not a corporation. If you were to do the math, I am so far red, I am touching the center of the earth. Just so you know I am an American and I make jewelry. Just so you know I price way lower than I should and I honestly feel like I deserve to sell my items at a higher price.

You want to send a message to the big bad corporations, why not buy from Americans selling their wares online?

The more you buy from us little guys,  eventually we have to pay taxes.  The more you buy from us, maybe we could hire someone or spend our earnings in advertising or buying more supplies from other American companies. The more you buy from us, the more the Post Office, Fed Ex, and UPS make.

Final thought... you want the world to change? It starts with you. You make the decision to shop for your jewelry from me or Walmart. You make the choice to shop at Ikea or the local carpenter. Those people in DC will not change anything and they really don't care about you. So you want change, you want a revolution then it starts with you, all of us.

And I'm not going to  quit, I just have to figure out how to sell more on my own because no one else is going to help me. Like always, I have to do it on my own.

Wednesday, May 25, 2016

Into the Garden by JM Scott FREE until 5/29/16

Hey all, Just wanted to let you know Into the Garden is FREE in all markets until 5/29/16. This is my first poetry collection. It is an acrostic poetry collection that uses fruits and vegetables for the acrostic portion.

Here is a sample


Brought are the gifts
Anointed in dragon’s blood.
Necromancer wanna-be’s play games in the dark,
Ashy veils disintegrate to
Nulls in space.
Aviators fly right into another world, the
Stewardesses has been long gone
                                          for a fortnight.

Enjoy. Until next time...

Finally Summer!!

And it's about god damn time too. My furnace has been running at least once a day, up until the other day. It's the end of May! Granted I live in the mountains, but I am not a mile high up. The weather people are calling for a hot, hot summer this year. I hope so. Okay, so I am not particularly fond of sweating in front of a fan running on high, but I love swimming. Last summer never really got that hot and the water always seemed kind of chilly. Ideally summer should be hot days and cooler nights so I am not sweating my invisible balls off in bed.

I know I haven't written in a couple of weeks. Lots of reasons for that... BRAIN FOG. I don't know why this is happening but sometimes everything just blurs together. I had a rough time getting my act together to get my papers done for class (don't worry though I have turned them in on time, every week). Aforementioned papers for school. I am taking Literary Theory, which is a lot of work. There are short papers to write every week in addition to  longer papers. The other class is Nonfiction workshop and just as much as work. This week is light on the work load because the final papers are both due Sunday. But since we are going camping this weekend, I will be turning my papers in on Thursday. In fact, both are done. I am going to read through them once more and slap on the headers and turn them in.  I spent a lot of time preparing the sale for my Etsy store (and that is another post all together). Okay so that was three reasons, more than plenty.

How's the writing going? HA HA. I think I am burned out a bit. I took Fiction workshop and my writing challenge went downhill. I do have a story I am going to post on here soon, I did make a bunch of new stories from class. There are two that need editing yet. One is marked for sending away and the other is for my short story collection that I plan on publishing this year. I think it is time for me to get back to basics with the stories. Instead of 4000 word stories, I am going back to flash fiction. I bought some books for Kindle both flash fiction how to books and dozens of flash collections.

What I really need to do, is actually sit down and write. I always have trouble with that, But I try. It seems like when my brain is working better, I write better.

So what are my plans for this year? Finish compiling Sanctioned Shadows, a book of short stories. Many are ones that I sent away over the years. Some were written just for the book. They have never been published. I have quite a few already but the book is not ready. I am not even sure when it will be. I also am starting to work on Trick or Poem which will be 31 Halloween and/or horror themed poems. I have seven. All though I am not too sure about one of them. I have some ideas on the rest. I definitely want that book out either before Halloween or right around there.

And that's about it. Be good to summer and it will be good to you.

Monday, May 9, 2016

Sausage of Knowledge

conundrum and just me
it doesn’t storm
eventually reasons right
the 65 world recuperates
do flash them today
and you will likely finish
Congress Spanish,
obviously jack, probably sexy
Medieval coming,
crushed and embalmed
catapults on stage
you seen Peter
and were glad
she has this and that
out for saying years
can be heads.
not my thing.
There, you have my
out see do.

Source: Colbert, Stephen. "Stephen Colbert’s Address to the Graduates." 5 Jun. 2006. Web. 9 May 2016.

Hey all today I felt like writing a poem.  Today this came from The Found Poetry Review and we were to create a poem from a commencement speech. You can read the prompt here I was going to do Kennedy, but the link wasn't working so I chose Stephen Colbert. Sausage of Knowledge was all his- verbatim, I thought it was funny. Anyway the text was rather large and my brain is rather mushy so I ran it through the Powerball feature at Applied Poetics, did some editing and poof a poem. It really was magic. Enjoy...

Thursday, May 5, 2016

The Wolf's Red Rose by JM Scott Free until 5/8/16

Hey all, just a quick post to let you know that The Wolf's Red Rose is FREE until May 8, 2016. It is a retelling of the famous Little Red Riding Hood fairy tale, told from the point of view of the wolf.

Here's the beginning:

Why do wolves always get a bad reputation? Look at me, I have a college degree and since I moved into the Ethereal Forest, I’ve been ridiculed. Just because of my species. Yes, I love meat but I take animals that are already dead unlike my former pack that hunts for food. They are a good pack though, they only hunt for food and not for glory like some packs. It was my choice to leave the pack and start a new life. I wanted to spend my time writing poetry, piddling in my garden and living a truly peaceful life. That was my plan. And at first things were grand.

I contracted these three little pigs to build my home. They built a three-room house with the utmost details, expert masonry, framed windows, and huge ceilings with wooden beams. They built most of my furniture. After they were done, I invited them to spend time with me, playing cards and what not. I enjoyed their company and they enjoyed my homemade wine.
To this day, I am not exactly sure what happened but the brothers pig had a falling out of sorts. Each pulled pranks on each other. Then for whatever reason my name got dragged into their fight and they all blamed me for their misfortune. And the only reason they would turn their backs on me was because I was a wolf, a hunter, and they were getting a lot of grief for my being my friend.

After that incident, I woke up one morning to my beautiful prize vegetables and my precious grapes smashed all about. Smashed not eaten. On my once pristine brick wall, were words smeared in cranberry-colored blood leave us alone and killer. Animal carcasses littered my yard. Freshly killed animals nonetheless. Who would do this? The only thing left to do is to pick up the pieces to start again. I salvaged all the good meat (just because I didn’t kill them, doesn’t mean I had to waste the meat) and I preserved it. I collected all the bones and the smashed vegetables from my garden and mixed them with my compost. I spent days scouring the graffiti off my walls. Shortly after that, my pack came for a visit. I am positive the eyes and ears of the forest watched closely as a pack of wolves came into town.

Monday, May 2, 2016

Sunken Storm

you trust
pure desertness
squeezed storms
treeless summers
up dunes
ruddy moon dust-
preserves eye dust.

you prevent
the slender lotus
to woody end
dust frost on every
tormented forest.

downpours tempt
your poet well,
very seldom
you express toll wonder,
yet you know
no purpose for
world people.

Source: Austin, Mary Hunter. “The Land of Little Rain.” The Land of Little Rain. Web. 2 May 2016.

And here is the last prompt from The Found Poetry Review. This was to take a text and run it through the phone number constraint on applied poetics. I used 867-5309 not because was already there, but I planned on already using it since it has to do with my name. You can read the full prompt here

 And I drop the mic...

Maceration Protoplasm of the Stars

prepared by a previous life
infinite spiral filaments
crystallized by spherical
variation and clustered in
blue milk
this marvelous phenomenon-
a sufficiency of exactness
from obscure corkscrew fission
power and influence on linen,
weak wine, and indigo opium
turns to the anomalous rescued
spore- an exclamation
of astonishment
as flagella protrude
into the never-ending and almost
unlimited powers of
our universal fermentation
assimilating in nature

Source: Conn, H.W. “The Story of Germ Life.” Web 2 May 2016.

Hey all, here is my poem for prompt 29 from The Found Poetry Review. This one was to collect words and phrases from a difficult text such as a science or math book. You can read the full prompt here

Saturday, April 30, 2016

Seemless Mythology

Hand weaving witch’s
spandex, the wax composition
board of hollyhock
and hibiscus, I hatch
the gilded grimoire
to target a promise keeper.
The dark-wood chapel
saves the bronze medallion
and a Bahama Yogi makes
ivy origami.
Showering in la pacha tea,
I eat the burnout like bramback,
the absolute calvary beams
dimensions in gold silk.

Source: Words gathered from Google search pages, 1-5 using the term “kava damask.”

And here is poem 30. When I return, I will do the last two prompts from The Found Poetry Review. I think I made some good poems, and some not so good ones. What really matters is that I wrote a poem pretty much every day. Why the hell can't I do this at least every other month?

Which poem did you like the best?

Friday, April 29, 2016

Lazy Eye Orchestra

Source: Fitzgerald, F. Scott. The Beautiful and Damned. Kindle for Windows 8.1. Loc, 1103 of 5049.

Hey all, here is poem 29. I know, I didn't do a prompt but  I will do the last two prompts when I get back from my little vacation. I just couldn't leave this challenge unfinished, so I decided to do some found poems on my own. 

Thursday, April 28, 2016

Determination Conspiracy

early existence
broken chrome colonies
frantic erasures

behind Earth faces
confident expenditures
fatal envy dulls

a deluded chapter
for eyelid fanatics
a good flat fire found

atomic arrows bribe
because esoteric brass
colors a galaxy

The song composed from these words

Determination Conspiracy

Source: Goodale, Earl. “Success Story.” Web. 28 Apr 2016.

This prompt was pretty nifty. In short, we were to grab a text and collect words that begin with the letters A,B,C,D,E,F, and G. Then we create a poem. Once the poem is complete, were to compose a song, the beginning letter corresponds to a note, the syllables correspond to the note beat. You can read the full prompt here

Wednesday, April 27, 2016

(someday somewhere)

And Ritchie you are so right
(someday somewhere)
sleep while the grill is hot
the horizon cries at twilight
Kansas is just around the corner
though he’s long gone
(someday somewhere)
Ritchie keeps singing
that the fire caresses the moon
sunshine melts the ground
fluffy lyrics and the road moves on
(someday somewhere)
then that song from high school
blending of universes and time warps
silver silo
the out of focus fuzzy
hearts with trademarks
flavorless, warm and flat fountain Coke
I can see for miles and miles.
(someday somewhere)

Hey all here is poem 27.  This is a reversal poem. Today's prompt actually had a few to choose from so I chose a reversal and picked an old poem. You can read the original, somewhat, by reading it backwards.  I did some editing, but you will get the idea of what the original sounded like. You can check this  prompt and the other prompts for the day here.

I actually remember when I wrote the original or at least sort of. It was at least  5 years ago and we went to the grocery store to pick up food for our camping trip. A song was playing through the store.  I am not sure of the actual song title but it is an oldie and it goes something like "someday somewhere, someday somewhere, I'm gonna love you." or something similar to that. It sounded like Ritchie Valence, but I don't think it is. And on our way down, there was this silver silo and only a strange square shimmered like wavy heat, the rest of the silo was normal. And I was drinking warm fountain Coke from McDonald's. The second to last line is a song lyric as well.